


my best friend, kuroo

by radstereo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma Friendship, M/M, References to Depression, there's a plot twist at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radstereo/pseuds/radstereo
Summary: “What are you doing?” Kenma asked, tipping his head forward as an invitation to keep going. So, Kuroo did— dug his fingers into the space above Kenma’s collarbones, let his thumbs rub out the tension right above the back of his armpit.Kuroo leaned down, resting his chin on the top of Kenma’s head. “Helping you calm the hell down. You’re all wound up for no reason.”You're the reason, Kenma wanted to say. It’s all you, Tetsurou.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	my best friend, kuroo

**Author's Note:**

> for jane, with luv

_ “It should be enough. To make something  _ _ beautiful should be enough. It isn’t. It should be.” _

Richard Siken, “Landscape with a Blur of Conquerors.”

  
  
  
  


Kenma had never been good with people.

Ever since he had been old enough to interact with other children his age, it was clear that he didn’t know how to make friends. His first year in elementary school, he was alone. Alone at lunch, alone at recess, alone walking home. He watched the other kids play happily with their friends, big grins on their faces like they’d struck gold on the playground. It made Kenma mad. He didn’t admit it to anyone; he barely even admitted it to himself. But that rise in emotion, the sheer anger towards the universe for doing this to him… it built up, one way or another. And it didn't matter that he came home to parents who wanted to know how his day was, because his day always consisted of nothing. Six years old without a friend in the world.

Until Kuroo.

Kuroo, with his stupid black hair that stuck up like he’d been struck by lightning. Kuroo, with the biggest smile Kenma had ever seen, one that made the skin around his eyes bunch up. Kuroo, with the power to get Kenma out of any slump, any ditch, any hole.

Kenma can't remember exactly how or when he met Kuroo. He just knew that one day, Kuroo came into his life, like an apology from God for the loneliness Kenma had been subjected to. 

Once Kuroo was around... he wasn't alone anymore. Kuroo never let him be alone. Sometimes he got a little overwhelming, not really understanding the concept of personal space, but as the years went by and he got to know Kenma more and more, he started to learn. Started to learn that sometimes after school, Kenma didn’t really wanna talk. So, Kuroo would sit on Kenma’s bed with him, not saying a word, watching the TV screen as Kenma played his video games. It was always a comfortable silence. Kuroo’s presence was gentle and warm, something Kenma didn’t even realize he craved until he had it.

As Kenma got older, things started to get scarier. Started to have names. That nervous feeling he got around the other kids his age became  _ anxiety,  _ and that weird desire to sink into his bed at night, that became  _ depression.  _ Kenma hated taking his pills. Not because of how they made him feel, because he knew very well that without them, he’d feel a whole lot worse. But he hated swallowing them. He hated the way they felt going down. 

But the one constant was Kuroo. Kuroo, who helped him keep track of his pills. Kuroo, who just somehow knew everything Kenma was feeling. Kuroo, who had mastered how to get Kenma out of an anxiety attack. Kuroo, who knew when Kenma’s laziness was starting to break its way into being a depressive episode. 

Kuroo, his best friend.

  
  
  


Kenma first met Shouyou when he was twelve years old. 

It was a shitty day out, raining like mother nature was trying to flood the earth, and Kenma was walking home from the video game store downtown. Normally, Kuroo would’ve gone with him, and on a day like this, Kuroo would have probably offered up half of the clothes on his own body to keep Kenma warm. But Kenma hadn't seen Kuroo at school today, so he figured Kuroo was sick or something. Which left Kenma here— alone, once again. He was shivering from the combination of the cold rain and the chilled breeze passing by him every few minutes. 

He truly hadn’t thought anything of it when the bike had sped past him. He barely even acknowledged it at all. But after making it halfway down the sidewalk, the bike came to a slow stop, and the boy riding it turned back to look at Kenma.

“Hey!” he yelled, starting to walk his bike over to where Kenma was. Kenma felt himself freeze up a bit, curious as to why this kid was approaching him, fast, with the handlebars of his bike gripped tight between his small, skinny hands. Kenma thought the boy’s hands looked a lot like his own; just a bit more gentle and a lot less calloused. Kenma’s hands were small and his fingers were thin and dainty, just like a girl’s, but Kuroo had always told him they were beautiful so he believed it. He didn’t read too much into what Kuroo meant by that.

“Can I help you?” Kenma asked, his voice soft like it always had been. Kuroo told him one time that his voice sounded like honey, and just like the thing with his hands, he wasn't too sure what that meant, just that he knew he liked it when Kuroo said stuff like that to him. He liked it when Kuroo did a lot of things, like run his hands through his hair or share his clothes with him. 

The boy with the bike stopped running, panting a bit as he came to a standing point in front of Kenma. 

Kenma would be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit pleased with the fact that he was taller than this kid.

“I saw you come out of the video game store. I love that store!” he exclaimed happily, not even seeming phased by the downpour that was currently unleashing itself onto his pumpkin-orange hair. “I’m Shouyou Hinata. You seem cool.”

Kenma felt strange for a moment. Is this what making a friend was like in the real world? He couldn't remember how he and Kuroo became friends. Kuroo was just… there one day. And once he was there, he was  _ always  _ there. Kenma couldn't remember a time in which he had to make a friend. 

“Kenma,” he said simply, and he realized then that he didn't even know how to introduce himself to a stranger. 

The two of them stood there, letting the cold fucking rain wash over them like a sheet of ice, until Shouyou eventually smiled, his face splitting open into his great-big grin. It reminded Kenma of his best friend. 

So he smiled, too. 

  
  
  


His days went like this: wake up for school, meet Kuroo outside. Walk to school, bump hands with Kuroo the whole time, try to convince himself the fluttering inside his stomach wasn't anything to worry about. Get to school, part ways with Kuroo until lunch. Text Shouyou during class, laugh softly to himself when the redhead told him to stop and pay attention. 

Kenma, for the first time in a long time, liked his life. Just a little bit.

It was after school now, he and Kuroo sitting in his bedroom. Kenma was getting increasingly frustrated with the stupid level he was stuck on in his game, though he’d never let it show. But, of course, Kuroo could tell. Kuroo could always tell. 

Kenma was convinced Kuroo’s whole world was built around him. 

“Just give me the controller, I’ll try,” Kuroo said, even though he and Kenma both knew that was a lie— Kuroo was shit at this game. 

Kenma shook his head, a strand of hair falling into his face. “No. I’ve got it.”

They were sixteen and seventeen now, and with their aging came something different. Something… more. Kenma felt it every time they were together. It wasn't the same way he’d felt when he and Kuroo first became friends— back then, back when he was still young and oblivious to what his own brain could do, Kuroo’s presence had just been a sign of comfort. It still was. But now, with the way Kenma’s brain had matured, with the way he’d lived all these years with Kuroo at his side, he realized that comfort had evolved into something more. It had curled up around him, slipping into him through his gentle skin and eventually eating him alive. 

He wondered if Kuroo felt it, too. If it was eating him up like it was Kenma. 

When he finally beat the damn level, he dropped his controller to the ground, letting out a sigh and rubbing his eyes. He had a headache. There was so much stirring around in his brain, like a mixing pot that just kept getting heavier. Kept getting thicker.

“Kenma.” Kuroo’s voice came soft behind him, and a pair of hands found their way onto Kenma’s shoulders. Kenma’s hands were small, but Kuroo’s hands were big. His palms were wide and his fingers long. Kuroo had a pair of hands that Kenma couldn't get enough of, even if he tried. Kuroo started to dig the heels of his hands into Kenma’s shoulders, right where all the tension had knotted up, and Kenma had to stop himself from completely melting into the touch. 

“What are you doing?” Kenma asked, tipping his head forward as an invitation to keep going. So, Kuroo did— dug his fingers into the space above Kenma’s collarbones, let his thumbs rub out the tension right above the back of his armpit. Even though the material of Kenma’s t-shirt, the touch felt good. 

Kuroo leaned down, resting his chin on the top of Kenma’s head. “Helping you calm the hell down. You’re all wound up for no reason.”

_ You're the reason,  _ Kenma wanted to say.  _ It’s all you, Tetsurou.  _

  
  
  


**ughh kenma D:**

**shouyou**

**i still haven’t gotten anywhere**

**with kageyama :/**

**i think he hates me**

**he doesn’t hate you. you**

**just have to actually talk**

**to him about this. he’s a little**

**oblivious, shouyou**

**i guess**

**how’s kuroo? still mad**

**i haven't met him yet. we’ve**

**been friends for years!!**

**kuroo’s okay**

**and i know, sorry. he’s**

**just weird about it**

**you sure he’s even real?? :P**

**shut up shouyou >:(**

  
  
  
  


The more Kenma thought about it, he realized how alike he and Kuroo were. Kuroo wasn't much of a people person, either. He didn't really want to meet anyone new— he just wanted to be Kenma’s friend. He supposed he was okay with that, having Kuroo all to himself. Obviously, he wasn't sure who Kuroo hung around with in school, since he and Kenma didn't see each other all day, their schedules completely different. But at the end of the day, when the two of them met up at the gates of school and started their walk home, Kuroo wouldn't mention anything about anyone else. It made Kenma feel a little special, if he was being honest.

“Kenma,” came Kuroo’s voice from next to him, the room dark and quiet. The only noise was the gentle buzzing of Kenma’s game consoles. 

It was late, a Friday night, and Kuroo was staying over, because Kenma’s parents had taken off for their anniversary vacation. Kenma was more than happy to have Kuroo stay with him for as many nights as he wanted. 

“Kuro,” Kenma whispered back, his voice soft and flat compared to the richness of Kuroo’s voice. Kenma loved his voice. Kenma loved everything about Kuroo.

“I’m cold,” Kuroo complained, and Kenma could hear him shift onto his side. “We should cuddle.”

Kenma couldn't hold back the little giggle he let out. He kept a smile on his face as he scooted back a bit, his body colliding with Kuroo’s. 

Kuroo’s arms came next, sliding up Kenma’s sides, then down over his stomach, pulling him closer. His touch was so warm. His hands laid in a bundle on Kenma’s stomach, and Kenma reached down, placing his little hands on top of Kuroo’s much bigger ones.

He felt Kuroo press his face into the back of his neck, his nose brushing against the nape. Kenma shivered a bit.

Kuroo laughed at that— him and his fucking laugh, that laugh that could kickstart the world’s turning if it ever decided to stop. 

“Hey, Tetsurou?” Kenma’s voice was so small. Calling Kuroo by his first name made him nervous, somehow. He wasn't too sure why. He just knew that it filled his stomach with that stupid fucking fluttering.

Kuroo’s words were warm against Kenma’s neck. “Yeah?” 

“I love you,” is what came out. Kenma didn't even mean to say it.

Both of them just… froze. Kenma, in fear. And Kuroo, in shock. 

“I’m sor—” Kenma tried, but Kuroo’s grip on his body gave him the leeway to spin Kenma around quickly, the two of them now facing each other. 

“ _ Kenma, _ ” Kuroo breathed out, like he was saying Kenma’s name for the first time. He sounded… relieved. 

“...Kuroo…?” 

And then there was a kiss.

Kenma felt like he was going to explode.

  
  
  


**kuroo kissed me**

**WHAT?!??!**

**WHEN??!??!**

**about twenty minutes ago**

**he’s sleeping now. he’s holding me**

**OH MY GOD KENMA!!!**

**ARE YOU GUYS GONNA**

**BE BOYFRIENDS NOW????**

**i think so**

  
  
  


A whisper in the dark. The next night. There were arms around Kenma again. “What are we, Kuroo?”

“What do you want us to be?”

A pause. “Together.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes.” No pause this time.

Silence, but only for a moment. Kuroo kissed the back of Kenma’s neck.

“Then you are.”

  
  
  


The next year was weird for Kenma.

The good in his year of being sixteen was the fact that him and Kuroo were together now. Granted, they didn't  _ do  _ much, just sat at home in Kenma’s bedroom, playing video games. But it seemed like Kuroo was okay with that, and that made Kenma happy. All he really wanted was for Kuroo to hold him while he played his games. That was the perfect date in his eyes.

But, on the opposite end of the spectrum, Shouyou wouldn't stop bugging Kenma about meeting Kuroo. It seemed like he wanted nothing more in the world. But Kenma would bring it up to Kuroo, and Kuroo would just… change the subject. It was clear he didn't want to talk about it, and even clearer that he didn't want to meet Shouyou.

Kenma was extremely curious on  _ why,  _ exactly, Kuroo didn't want to meet Shouyou. He convinced himself it was because Kuroo was just as bad with people as Kenma was. 

So, Kenma had two lives— Shouyou, and Kuroo. 

But right now, both of those lives were on hold, because Kenma was in bed. He was sick _. _

Throwing up, high fever, all that. 

Kenma had told Kuroo to stay home for a while, because he didn't want to get him sick. That was the last thing he wanted. And Kuroo had a difficult time keeping his hands— and his mouth— to himself when he was around Kenma. Normally, Kenma loved it. Loved him.

But right now? Kenma was throwing up the water he’d just finished drinking, right into the little trash can by his bed. And he missed Kuroo. 

Once the day turned to night and the stars came out, Kenma laid in bed, feeling exhausted and defeated from the way he’d been feeling all day. His throat hurt from the acidity of his bile, his chest hurt from retching all day. 

He heard the smallest noise from his door, then. A creak.

“Mom…?” he asked, kind of in an illness-induced haze. He felt out of it, for sure. 

“It’s me.” That was undeniably Kuroo’s voice. 

Kenma’s brain felt like mush. “What’re you doing here—?” 

“Couldn't leave you sick,” Kuroo sighed, walking in and closing the door behind him. He walked to Kenma’s bed, kneeling on the ground next to it. He reached forward, stroking Kenma’s forehead. “Oh, baby… you’re burning up, shit.” 

“Yeah, I’m sick,” Kenma said, trying to sound sarcastic, but the lack of energy in his voice just made him sound sad. He closed his eyes as Kuroo leaned down, pressing his lips to Kenma’s forehead. Then his cheeks. Then his nose. Then his lips.

“ _ Kuroo, _ ” Kenma huffed, pulling away. “You’re gonna get sick—”

“I don't care,” Kuroo laughed softly, shaking his head. “It was just one little kiss. I’ll be okay.”

Kenma’s face got even hotter. 

Kuroo, after some arguing, ended up in Kenma’s bed that night, Kenma’s face pressed against Kuroo’s chest, the older boy keeping him warm when he was cold and cooling him down when he was hot. It made Kenma feel a lot better, somehow. 

When Kenma woke up the next morning, after a night full of dreams about a certain black-haired boy, Kuroo was gone. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up and looked around, frowning to himself. It was like Kuroo to leave before Kenma’s parents could find him in his room, because he knew Kenma would get in trouble for having someone over while he was sick. 

Kenma’s mom came into his bedroom about twenty minutes after he woke up, shoving a thermometer under his tongue, her words clinical, like a doctor’s. Not a mother’s. 

“I miss Kuroo,” Kenma had eventually said, seemingly out of nowhere, and his mother made a small noise in response.

“Who is Kuroo, again?” she asked as she began to pull the soiled bag out of Kenma’s trash can, clearly not at all interested in the answer. Kenma wasn't surprised. His parents had stopped paying attention to him a long time ago.

“My friend, Mom.”

And, apparently, they’d even forgotten Kuroo. 

  
  
  
  


In the last few minutes of October 15th, Kenma sat on his bed, waiting for his birthday to hit. His eighteenth birthday.

“The big one-eight,” Kuroo grinned, gripping Kenma’s hands tightly. Kenma could tell he was excited, even more excited than he was himself. 

“I know,” Kenma said softly, trying not to be  _ too  _ loud in case his family could still hear him. He looked over at the clock on his nightstand— 11:59. One more minute.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, scooting closer to Kenma. He reached up, taking Kenma’s face in his hands because he  _ could _ , and leaned in, pressing their lips together. So gentle. So soft. In the way Kuroo always kissed him. 

Kenma leaned more into it, letting himself smile against Kuroo’s mouth. He was so fucking happy. It wasn't often he felt like this— so overwhelmed with  _ joy.  _ But here he was, kissing the boy he’d loved since he knew what love even was, and possibly before that, too. 

The alarm he’d had set on his phone went off, signaling the strike of midnight, and Kuroo screamed into the kiss, pulling back to do a stupid little dance on Kenma’s bed.

“Eighteen! Eighteen! Kenma’s an adult now!” Kuroo grinned, eventually sitting back down once Kenma began to tug on his pant legs. 

“You’re an idiot,” Kenma laughed, smiling fondly at his boyfriend. 

The two of them ended up laying down around one in the morning.

“I love you,” Kuroo whispered, his eyes drooping closed a bit. Kenma couldn't help but stare.

“And I love you,” Kenma whispered back, trying to match Kuroo’s tone, a small smile raising to his lips as he watched Kuroo’s grin widen, then fade, then relax, as he slowly fell asleep. 

Watching Kuroo sleep made Kenma happy. It made him feel warm.

He wondered if it was a bad idea, when he took his phone out. He didn't think so. Shouyou had been begging for years to meet Kuroo, to see what he looked like, but Kenma had realized along the way that he and Kuroo didn't take photos together. Kenma didn't have a single photo of Kuroo, and in a way it was always comical— they’ve spent their whole lives together, and not a single photograph.

Kenma held his phone up, aiming the camera at Kuroo’s sleeping form, making sure to get his entire face in frame. He smiled down at his screen, running his finger over Kuroo’s relaxed, sleeping face in the photo. 

**finally decided to take a pic of kuroo**

**here you go**

**he’s asleep**

Kenma listened to Kuroo’s soft snoring as he watched Shouyou read the message. His typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared, then disappeared.

**hahaha, funny**

**seriously, will i EVER get**

**to see what the mysterious**

**tetsurou kuroo looks like??**

Kenma furrowed his brows, looking down at his screen, confused.

He’d sent a photo.  _ Kuroo was right there. _

**what?**

**he’s in the photo, shouyou**

**is it too dark? should i take**

**another one?**

**kenma, there’s nobody in**

**that picture ?**

**it’s just your bed**

_ Kenma, there’s nobody in that picture. _

_ There’s nobody in that picture. _

He frantically scrolled back up to the picture, clicking on it and zooming in. He turned his brightness all the way up. 

And, now, Shouyou was right. 

There was nobody in the picture. Just Kenma’s blankets and pillows.

Kenma couldn't hear Kuroo snoring anymore.

He looked up from his phone, so slowly. He was afraid. He could feel his throat starting to close on him. He knew he’d start having an anxiety attack in a minute, if Kuroo didn't help him calm down—

His bed was empty. 

“What,” Kenma breathed, the only sound in his room. He shot up like he’d been burned, sitting straight up in bed, looking around the room frantically. He reached over and turned his lamp on, getting up out of bed. “Kuroo?”

Nothing. There was nothing. No one.

“Kuroo _ ,  _ this isn't funny,” Kenma said, but his voice was trembling now and he was starting to lose the ability to breathe.

He flung his door open, so hard it smacked heavy against the wall, making a loud  _ thud  _ noise that echoed inside Kenma’s head. He ran to his parents’ room, opening the door and turning on the lights.

“Kenma, honey, what—” his mom started to ask, but he interrupted her. He had started to cry.

“Mom, Kuroo’s gone,” he rushed out, his voice doing cartwheels around itself at this point. He couldn't even understand himself. “He’s gone, he wasn't in the picture, I’m so confused, I’m scared—”

“Kenma, what are you talking about?” his dad asked, his voice groggy as he sat up out of sleep. “Kuroo…? Who’s—”

_ “You know Kuroo!”  _ Kenma almost screamed. He couldn't remember the last time he was this loud. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, burning the chapped skin, leaving red marks on his face. “You _ know  _ him! You know him! He’s always here, he’s my best friend, he’s— he’s—!” 

“Kenma,” his mom spoke again, and now she was in front of him, her hands resting on his arms. “Kenma, sweetheart, I don't know who you’re talking about… the name rings a bell, but honey, you’ve never had anyone at the house. The only friend of yours I know is Shouyou.”

Kenma’s world was crumbling down around him. 

He might have shoved his mom, he might have imagined it. He couldn't remember what he had done as he ran out of that bedroom and back into his own, slamming the door shut and locking it. He pressed his back up against it, his chest heaving as he tried to take in any air that he could. 

Kuroo had  _ touched  _ him. Kuroo kissed him. Kuroo held him. He felt Kuroo’s touch. How could he have imagined it all? 

And, like the biggest wave in a tsunami, it hit him, taking his breath from his lungs. 

The memory.

  
  
  


_ He sat alone during recess, across from where the cool kids played some sort of variation of dodgeball in the field. He had his feet underneath him as he sat cross-legged, his attention on the piece of construction paper in front of him. With the little black crayon he had in his hand, he added the final touches to his drawing. Some cool, spiky hair, and a great big grin on the face of his drawing.  _

_ At the top, it said, “My Best Friend.” Kenma knew he needed to give his new best friend a name.  _

_ “Hmm,” he hummed to himself, filtering through the mental list of the coolest names he knew.  _

_ He thought that his friend looked a little like a black cat. Kenma loved cats— they were his favorite animal. _

_ “I’ve got it!” he smiled, scribbling down the new name he’d thought of for his friend. _

_ My Best Friend, Kuroo.  _   
  
  
  


“Black tail,” Kenma whispered, his eyes wide. “Oh god.”

He sunk to the floor, his gaze focused on absolutely nothing. His eyes were just staring out into space. 

None of it was real. Kuroo was never real. Kenma had been so lonely, so  _ fucking  _ lonely, that he’d made up Kuroo one day, and his brain filtered in the rest. And as he got older, when his mind only got harder to navigate, he  _ needed  _ Kuroo around. He needed someone to keep him safe.

Even if they weren't real.

Kenma let himself sob, then. He buried his face in his hands and then bent over to press his hand-covered-face into his knees. He wailed. He cried like he’d never cried before. He couldn't fucking breathe, he couldn't fucking feel anything except  _ hurt _ . 

And the worst part? He didn't even have Kuroo to help him breathe again.

  
  
  


_ When Kenma was six years old, he sat in his bedroom, playing with the DS he’d gotten for his birthday that year. He was happily curled up in bed, his head resting against his pillow, when he felt someone with him. _

_ He looked up from the tiny screen of his DS, and saw a boy. A boy with spiky, black hair, just like a cat. _

_ “Kuroo,” Kenma smiled, closing his DS and sitting up. “Are you gonna be my best friend forever now?” _

_ Kuroo nodded, smiling, sitting on Kenma’s bed. That grin of his warmed Kenma’s heart. “Yes! I’m excited, Kenma.” _

_ Kenma broke into a grin, attacking Kuroo in a crushing hug. The boys laughed as they fell to the ground, like two dogs wrestling over a toy. This was the first time Kenma had ever felt what it was like to not be alone.  _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed <3 :)
> 
> instagram: clairvcyancy   
> twitter:buckbuchanans


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